


A Lovesick Love

by hakuwei



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: F/M, HAPPY V DAY LMAo oo o, hakyona is so much fun to write tho?, im so r r y n on e of the m a re hap p y AH HAH AHa hha AA A aa, oh my gos hh hi l ove the m, rip meeeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakuwei/pseuds/hakuwei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Happy Valentine's all!<br/>Each of these chapters is Hakyona oriented.</p><p>    Ch. 1 - When the Ocean Kisses Dawn<br/>❝ If she be the dawn, then he be the ocean. ❞</p><p>    Ch. 2 - Everything Was so Sweet<br/>❝ Even in his dreams this love is forbidden. ❞</p><p>    Ch. 3 - To Love a Princess<br/>❝ Her body aches, his heart aches. ❞</p><p>    Ch. 4 - A Lovesick Love<br/>❝ They lay upon each other under the midday sun on the mare,<br/>his arms wrapped around her waist,<br/>her hands at his sternum. ❞</p><p>    First three are poetic, the last a longer piece.<br/>Enjoy! ♥</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When the Ocean Kisses Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 1 - When the Ocean Kisses Dawn  
> ❝ If she be the dawn, then he be the ocean. ❞

There’s much to do with _blood_ ,  


     swords,  
         arrows,  
       with _crimson_ hair, 

                                   _fiery_ eyes; 

                            but there is more to do with love, 

when the ocean kisses _dawn._

A _ruby_ she is in the eyes of many-  
               an enigmatic _rose_ , too, such thorns piercing her glare,  
                       those eyes, 

                                                   that hair. 

It is when she stands before a particular man,  
         at the dying sun,  
                 that he stands a distance in awe. 

He remembers that sun rising in the east, 

feeble,  
      pampered,  
           indolent,  
               egotistical-  


                      what could one expect when all revolved around it- 

          and the journey that took this sun to the west; 

he’d play it on repeat,  
        until it etched his mind,  
              until he closed his eyes  
                    and all he saw was 

                                                                   her. 

Her in all her flaws,  
     mistakes,  
           tears,  
              outrage,  
                  kindness,  
                      maturity,  
                          immaturity,  
                              child,  
                                  woman,  
                                      princess,  
                                           queen,  


                                                                        the sun. 

                 She is more than the sun. 

                             She scathes like the sun,  
                    but she is also gentle like the sky, 

                    and she is everything in between- 

a storm,   
      rain,  
          hail,  
              _fire_ , 

      _dawn_. 

                                               And what is he? 

He thinks to himself he is nothing,  
                just a tool,  
              just a servant. 

He is thunder,   
**though,**  
                   and the ocean beneath the wandering sun and  
                                             enveloping sky. 

“ _Princess…_ ”  
      the man mutters,  
            wishing he could say it now,  
                  when plenty before he was never shameful in his desires; 

he cannot speak for  
       when she turns to face him,  
             the sun streaks past her lovely countenance,  
and her hair becomes a thousand hues of _claret_ and _maroon._

                 “The sunset is rather beautiful today, _is it not_ Hak?” 

She smiles and turns again,  
       at such a perspective that the princess has faded with the  
                                          frolicking  
colors of the sun and sky. 

He doesn’t want to lose her- 

                                            he can’t. 

He takes a step forward,  
                 and another,  
until he is within her reach. 

~~**                  (How do you make the change from friends to lovers?)  ** ~~

The man opens his mouth to confess,  
      but the princess turns to face him with an alluring visage.  
                She laughs while hands caress his fingertips,  
                      but he’s never sure  
                                  if it is out of love  
         or measly gratefulness. 

                         “Come on Hak, let’s start heading back.” 

She grasps his hand and begins to walk,   
            the princess in front and him behind just as before,  
except now their hands are bonded.  


** When does the ocean  **

**               kiss dawn?  **

**                                 _(n e v e r)_ **


	2. Everything Was so Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 2 - Everything Was so Sweet  
> ❝ Even in his dreams this love is forbidden. ❞

Under a tree,  
                          lies _the queen of the dawn,_  
          and _her_ **beast of a man** upon its roots. 

While **he** leans upon these roots,  
                                                        _she_ leans upon him- 

                                              and of all this it is not pretend.

He’s transfixed on her eyelids,  
                                                          and his teeth,  
                                _they sink_ into her lips tasting of 

                  **fruits.**

Her hands _slide upwards_ his burly abdominal thews,  
                       and his hands, 

                                  they slide along that 

               _c   u   r   v   i   n   g_

                                                  backbone. 

~~         (It’s getting hard to breath.)  ~~

**He** presses his head into _hers_ ,  
                     and in emancipating a hand from her back,  
                     the thunder beast tugs her scalp  
downwards into him with it. 

                                   **Her lips taste of souring fruit.**

He,  
        _him-_  
                                  **Hak-**  
      whom Yona _adores_ ,  
                                          pulls from her touch,  
                 with a hand at her neck,  
and an eye of ardor. 

And so when she smiles,  
                                            and he begins again-  
                                  for he desires to consume dawn- 

         those lips, 

                                           _they are like blood._

He moves beyond this,  
                                           and with his tongue  
                                  does he reach the inner cheeks  
                                              of her mouth, 

                                                                   and _her eyes open._

She pulls at his hair,  
                               he presses down on her shoulders,  
              and meticulously,  
                               he brings a hand to the **cloth ribbon**  
          that holds her garments in place. 

                                                                 _Poison in her teeth._

                           He closes his eyes to indulge this moment. 

          They open. 

                                Hak is leaning upon a tree,  
and some distance before him is a fire. 

_She_ sits about it,  
                             eating silently,  
               and from afar bickering dragons could be heard. 

They make eye contact,  
                              but he cannot bear it,  
for their love was fictitious. 

~~ (he doesn’t know she's figuring out her love for him)                   
~~

The general stands  
            and lumbers from the area into the deep forestry,  
                                         and a frown etches upon _her_ lovely visage. 

       “Hak… 

                                          **Hak!”**

                                       Everything was so sweet, 

until his dreams  


                                were  


                   make  


  believe. 

                                      **(Can we pretend ? )**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make sure it made sense-
> 
> her lips change flavor the farther he goes in the dream with her because he told himself several times in reality he wouldn't pull "these kinds of things" anymore, so the changing lip flavor going from sweet to deathly represents how he's trying his luck and how this love wouldn't work out.
> 
> And so when he wakes up, he's disappointed because he doesn't think she /adores/ him or that she'll ever love him like he does her.


	3. To Love a Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 3 - To Love a Princess  
> ❝ Her body aches, his heart aches. ❞

    To settle down  
         would be a rudimentary thing  
            for someone like him,

               the lightning beast. 

                                To settle down  
                      with the sunkissed princess-  
                            **to love a princess**

                          is a complicated thing.

“I made this on my own,   
                                               okay?  
I found the herbs myself,  
                 gathered the water,  
                             boiled it,  
                                 filtered the leaves…”

She nods at her illustrious achievements,   
      listing every step  
           she took  
               to achieve them.

He sits on a log  
                      a s t o u n d e d.

           “ _You_  
                         make tea?

        That’s a new one,“

     he teases  
            for he knows perfectly well

she’s capable   
            of  
           _many_ things.

         "Hak!  
                      Yoon taught me everything I know,”

Yona pouts at him,   
        stomping  
      and waving  
       her arms  
       playfully.

                                  **She loves it;**  


                   it drives him  
                                                   _i n s a n e._

She reaches for two china glasses,  
           and from the pot on the flame  
                  she pours an herbal tea,  
                        embellished with petals.

                         The princess heads then toward him,  
                  each cup cupped in her palms,  
           and with a hand held forward  
she renders him a piece of her own craft,

                         a piece of her heart.  


                      ~~(He’d sip it, bathe in it, paint his body with it.)~~  


He takes it,  
         and she sits beside him,  
     and,  
             _O,_  
                         how the thunder beast  
wonders why life mocks him so;

         for her supple thighs  
                   brush  
           against his arms  
      and her _crimson tresses_  
cavort against his bold shoulders.

~~Taunting   .~~  


Teeth rip apart his bottom lip,  
                  and he begins to clutch  
                         this piece of her heart  
      held in his hands.

“Hmm…? Something wrong Hak?   
               If your worried about my injuries,  
        I’m fine;

       I promise.”  


Lies hinge from her lips  
            whilst defined cheeks caress his arms;  
            her hand rests on the back of his neck,  
    gently.

                                                  **Here's to questionable promises.**  


“Oh, right…  
                     I’m sure you’ll be fine Princess…”

Echoing in the air,  
          her laugh resonates,  
                  and the traces she left on his body-  
    gone. 

He could sense her euphoria   
         with the simple gesture  
                 of this offering,

but as she drank,  
              and he watched his reflection ripple within his untouched drink,  
          he felt this heart of hers grow  
colder.

                 ~~(Steam evaporating in the air)~~  


It began with  
           her hands-  
shaking,  
           and her eyes-  
crying.

Her fingertips released that cup,  
               and the liquid within drenched her feet.

                                      _A glistening red stained her lips._  


        [   She could no longer pretend agony found its home elsewhere.](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2F.&t=Mzc0Mjc3NzFlZWEyYTRjNWJmNWIyNTYwYjcwMDZlMjllYjZjNjRhMCxaVkIxelR6TQ%3D%3D)  


“I can’t…”  


                breathe?

Neither could he.  
       He was terrified.  
               The thought of losing her hit harder each time.

“Yon-  
                Princess!”

He grasps her back,  
          places another under her knees;  
            and picking her up,  
                  apace,  
he brings her into a tent,  
and he is swift to tend her with  
          medicinal herbs and cleansing water.

“Princess, keep fighting.  
              Yoon and the others will be back soon…”

                _Susurrating._

“Hak…”  


                 **Groaning.**

“Princess, you’ll…”  


                  _Mourning._

“I’m sorry…  
             I should’ve told you I was in…”

                  **Weeping.**  


“You didn’t have to say anything…  
          we all knew from the start…  
                         you were brave…  
          braver than any of us. Thank you P-”

                  _Halted._  


“No Hak…  
          tha… nk…  
      yo…u…”

** It’s impossible to love a princess. **

_His_ calloused hands dig into his scalp,  
       _his_ body keels over.

 _Her_ shaking hands smooth down her body,  
    _her_ head falls backward.

He’s wanted her more than anything.  


          She’s not sure what she wants anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 coming tomorrow!
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed these pieces.
> 
> The last chapter will be about Hak and Yona and horse back riding!


	4. A Lovesick Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 4 - A Lovesick Love  
> ❝ They lay upon each other under the midday sun on the mare,  
> his arms wrapped around her waist,  
> her hands at his sternum. ❞

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Mugunhwa - a hibiscus flower found in south korea

From the distance he was from her he wondered,  
                                                       when was she not beautiful?  
                                           Where would it be  
                                                       and what of the hour?

She, Princess Yona, was seated upon a bed of grass, overlooking the grazing horses,  
              in her hands a single Mugunghwa* flower.  
Her body swayed east to west, and by her parting lips she seemingly was singing a song.

With each step he took towards her, her heavenly lullaby faded,  
until his shadow towered her and her pursed lips curved to a smile.

"Are we ready to depart,"  
her words dissolved with the atmosphere that embraced them as she rose,  
         her head craning towards his as she breathed the final word,  
                                             Hak?"

The way she tongued his name, the way she stood with her back to him and her eyes poised on his,  
                                    he surmises his previous questions lacked answers.

~~From the start he knew it rhetorical.~~

He replies with furrowed brows, responds with his knowledge.

"Not quite, Princess. The villagers still won't let us leave until we choose a horse."

Slumping her shoulders at his words slightly, she turns completely with a single twirl, thereafter nearing him phlegmatically.

"Then help me choose one."

Last she rode a horse her body leaned upon the man she loved,  
               the man who lead her father to death,  
the man who pronounced her next.

She glances to the side ever briefly with a laugh, but in her eyes he could see the sight, sorrow, as if he were there too.

She found herself torn between the past and present when his calloused hands cupped hers, when he raveled his way through her fingertips to the stem of the flower she held, when he intertwined the bloom into her hair of fires flickering upwards with the rising sun.

"Of course, Princess,  
                       but you can't ride a horse with a flower in your hands."

Her lips part once more as if to oppose, disagree, to maybe then settle her bursting, splintered heart,  
but not a sound could elude from the depths of her narrow throat  
for even if her love for the thunder beast was but lost in a fog,  
                                                 her love for him existed still somewhere in the haze.

"You sure you want to pick one though? It's not like we need a horse, and it'll just be another mouth to feed,"

Hak reasons, that calloused hand now tangled between the strands of his own unruly hair.

"They're going to need it more anyways."

He shrugs.

But he couldn't shrug off the hurting he felt when he caught her visage brightening,  
for his heart is caught in a web of her white lies  
and he wishes at least if he didn't have her love,  
then could she have instead have had a life full of it?

"If the villagers won't let us go until we choose a horse, then they only wish to return the favor.  
                        If it brings another smile to their faces, there is no excuse we shouldn't."

Except that she found many.

Except that now she was no longer the same ignorant princess.

Except that now when she found every excuse in the world to stray  
from the memories that furthered the cracks of her fragmented heart,  
she wouldn't run away from the pain and plans that came undone.

It was Hak. And it was her.  
                      There was no one else.

"Right... whatever you wish, Princess."

If for a moment she found joy, he'd fulfill her every desire.

 

Three of them there were,  
ebony,  
ivory,   
burgundy.

As Hak reined the white animal which she requested, he noticed an oddity about the horse.  
He wasn't sure if it was the glint in that stallion's eyes,  
gentle and amiable,  
yet dangerous and devious,  
or if maybe it was just a trick of the light,  
as if the horse reminded him of a certain person.

  
He shook his head at the thought, that he was simply being too cautious, protective of her.

"Here you go, Princess. Watch your step, yeah? Wouldn't want you to fall and break those old, fragile bones."

"Hak!"

Together, they laugh in harmony, their joy but gone with the wind.

She grasped the reins, her thighs tight around the saddle.

"Loosen up. Let your back relax, but keep it straight. Hold the reins, but not too tight, and when you're ready, tap the sides of the horse with your legs.  
         You remember how I rode?"

The last part, he pretends it didn't come out.

How could she forget what she always remembered.

But she promised herself she would face those memories with a glare and a bow and arrow in hand.

"... like this?"

She adjusts herself so gracefully, naturally, that somehow he found himself disgusted.  
It was a disgust not with her but with himself.  
And it had nothing to do with her talent.

"... perfect."

It was that she _was_ perfect, and such a thing as perfection belonged

                                      free.

Soaring in the wind along the empty fields  
                                                                  she  
                                                                      was  
                                                                         free.

Untouched.  
    Admired.

                                 Loved. 

He stood in silence, his mouth considerably opened  
                                        as if now it was his turn to say more,   
                                                   more about her perfection,  
            that when he described her composure as such,  
                                maybe he was instead describing her.

                                                  Her and her everything.

                             This love, if it were even a love, was he sick of.

                                 Because lovesick over her had no cure.

Then she's howling his name in distress, and the reins are torn left and right,  
and he curses himself for being in these kind of situations where life and love were lines without a tie.

He liked it better when those lines were always tied.

Upon the burgundy horse of eyes like fire, he seats himself upon it,  
                                    without saddle,  
                       without reins.

~~Was their love not the same?~~

He races for her racing horse, and with an extended hand he reaches for her tunic.

~~Was their love not the same?~~

Their horses met abreast,  
                          the ivory and the burgundy,  
~~the king and princess.~~

                                    "Princess!"

He calls for her, brings his arms around her torso, pulling her body close around his.

Her horse, it continues,  
                         but theirs comes to a stop.

~~Could their love be the same?  
~~

Held in his arms, she shows no sign of discomfort, fear.  
Her arms, they lay upon his chest, her forehead fallen at the crooks of his neck.  
Her breath was heavy, and from her eyes fell a tear.

They lay upon each other under the midday sun on the mare,  
his arms wrapped around her waist,  
her hands at his sternum.

  
And in _their_ moment he finds a petal from the flower missing.

His eyes close, and through their suffering he still finds perfection.

When his lips reach down to caress the top of her head, she brings her head up,

and their lips are closer than ever before.

Unintentional on both parts.

                        But this was their love.

"H-hak!"

This is how it was,  
now and forevermore-  
               close but never close enough.

"Princess... forget the horse."

                    His head, it bows before her.

"... this horse will do."

He doesn't raise his head when she speaks, leaps off the mare,  
      when the split flower from her hair is carried up to the skies.

The wind swept along the fields, his hair fluttering with every blade of grass.

When she dismounted the horse he felt as if the breeze wound through him, as if he no longer existed.

Times as these, he thought to himself, made her gravely beautiful, and pondering her beauty was but a grave blunder.

There were other questions to ask.

This one he knew the answer to before even finding the words to ask it.

 

 

                                               Such a woman as that a beast as himself could never have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all caught the symbolism in this piece. *.*
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading. Sorry I didn't post this chapter on Valentine's Day, if any of ya care anyways.
> 
> I tried to write this one in a more simple way, I guess, because sometimes I feel like my words are too heavy or something like that... ~.~
> 
> If anyone want to request something or say something about my works, do not hesitate! I would be glad to take any criticism and any requests.
> 
> Again, thank you so much! 
> 
> ♥ Heather


End file.
